Chapter 16: I Met Santa Claus

As the human fleet traveled deeper into the unknown galaxy, it became apparent that we were outmatched technologically by our alien neighbors. Not only was their machinery more advanced, but some of the alien races seemed to possess strange powers that our scientists could not explain. I even heard of creatures that could breathe fire like the Dragons from our ancient legends.

Ryan felt something warm and wet on his brow. He sensed Éclair’s presence and got the idea that she had been nursing him back to health. Still in a daze, Ryan unthinkingly wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, Éclair, my sweet. I knew you cared.”

            “Well, aren’t you fresh,” crooned a voice back at him.

Something was very wrong. The voice sounded way too old and scratchy to belong to Éclair. Also, Éclair smelled like flowers … not prunes. Ryan opened his eyes to find himself hugging an old lady in a maid’s outfit. She had dull, gray eyes, white scraggly hair, and a wart on her nose the size of a grape. She smiled through yellow teeth in a way that made Ryan extremely uncomfortable, and she seemed to be missing quite a few dentures as well.

“I’ve had many men in my lifetime, but never a half-breed before, and certainly not one that was an Elemental as well. Could be fun.”

            Ryan resisted the urge to vomit, but that still didn't stop the gagging reflex, or the coughing. Amidst the throes of mental anguish, Ryan realized that he lay in a bed back inside his quarters. Ryan rose out of the bed, but a spindly man with long blond hair and light blue eyes pressed him back down. He seemed to be middle-aged, wore a long-sleeved shirt with his chest exposed, and had a stern face. Ryan pushed back against the man, forcing himself to his feet. The man said nothing as he did something funny with his fingers and jammed them into Ryan’s legs. Ryan immediately collapsed back into the bed as if his legs had stopped working.

            “Help! I’m being kidnapped by an old lady and her very quiet henchmen with extremely deadly fingers!”

            “Relax, Ryan. They're your housekeepers,” spoke Éclair's voice at last.

            She stood by the doorway in casual attire, a trendy long-sleeved greenish-blue shirt that revealed her shoulders loosely hung from her. She wore trendy skinny white jeans that accentuated her athletic figure. Comfortable high-heel white leather boots covered her feet, appearing to be both fashionable and functional. Since meeting her again, it was the first time she wore something unfit for combat. She always looked both beautiful and intimidating but seeing her in civilian clothes made the moment seem all the more special, like Éclair showed a secret side of herself.

            “My housekeepers,” repeated Ryan, still a bit frazzled about nearly making out with the wicked witch of the warts. “I didn’t have any housekeepers when I was in here before, and since when do housekeepers paralyze their … uh … housekeepees?” 

            Ryan fixed blondie with all his inner rage. The blond fellow just stared at Ryan quizzically, as if he never paralyzed him with his deft fingers.

            Éclair rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Do you really have to be so overdramatic all the time? Honestly, it’s exhausting just being around you.”

            The old lady bobbed up and down in a slight bow of reverence to Éclair. “Don’t worry, my lady. I’ll explain things to our young and handsome friend.”

            Ryan felt less and less comfortable about the old lady as she turned to him with a near-toothless grin.

            The old lady explained, “You see, you arrived late to the orientation ceremony, so you didn’t have time for proper registration. So Cedric and I hadn’t heard of your arrival until your unfortunate brush with the big, stupid lizard man. Oh, you poor thing.” The old lady brushed a hair from Ryan’s face.

Ryan suddenly had a strong urge to bolt from the room and burn his clothes, or at least the ones she touched.

            “As for your other question, Cedric was simply doing what was in his power to ensure that you stay in bed. You are still weak, and you shouldn’t get up so quickly. Although I am a little surprised that you're already awake. I would have given it at least a week, and yet here you are, up and ready to go just a day after your little tussle. One of the many marvelous things that I’ll come to find out about you, I’m sure.”

            Ryan tried to smile politely, but his insides were coming dangerously close to becoming his outsides. “I’m not so sure.” Ryan decided to change tactics. “Hey, Blondie! How come you haven’t said anything? Don’t you feel bad for knocking me on my butt?”

            The man didn't say a word, but instead made some very strange movements with his hands. He flapped his fingers like butterfly wings, then twisted his hands with two fingers sticking up and hopped them like a bunny. He then clapped in a funny way, slid his fingers together, and then beat his chest like an ape. And then he did something that looked like an extremely rude gesture, but judging by the serenity on his face, he didn't mean it to be so. Ryan had heard of sign language before, but never any so colorful. It took all of his willpower not to burst out laughing.

            Luckily, Éclair saved him just before he lost control of his giggles. “Cedric is part of a tribe of mutes that live outside of Tarrus. He understands our language fairly well, and if you take the time to get to know him, you should pick up on his … um … unique forms of sign language … at least a little.”

            I’m going to get a lot of laughs out of this guy.

Ryan then turned to Éclair with a mischievous grin. “So, what are YOU doing in my ROOM.” He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as a means of suggesting innuendo. “Were you that worried about me?” 

            Éclair scoffed. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Grunt, before I slap you. And to answer your question, why do you think I’m here, you dolt?! I was checking on your condition. I didn't expect to see you up so soon, but now that you are, I’m glad that you’re back to your usual, annoying self.”

Ah, isn’t that sweet! She missed me! I can read between the lines. If dad taught me anything, it’s that nothing screams ‘I love you’ louder than a girl saying, ‘I hate you!’

            “I heard you, you know?” said Ryan, refusing to let her wiggle out of this one.

            Éclair appeared dumbfounded as her eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

Ryan felt ecstatic. Denial is the first sign of a heart full of longing.

“Earlier. I heard you saying ‘Ryan, get up!’ That little boost gave me the motivation to get up despite being beaten, bruised, and battered.”

“Oh, alliteration,” cried the old lady excitedly as she fidgeted with the cork on a bottle. “You have a poet’s grace.”

            “I never said those words,” said Éclair in shock.

Ryan could tell that she told the truth. “Oh, never mind then. I guess I was just a bit punch-drunk. Getting the stuffing beaten out of you by ‘Godzilla the Barbarian’ tends to do that to a guy.”

             “No, I mean,” started Éclair in confusion. Then she seemed to dismiss the matter with a shake of her head. “Oh, never mind. Probably just a random occurrence. That happens from time to time … especially this close to the orientation ceremony. All the psions in the area are charged to their limits.”

            Ryan opened his mouth to ask, “What do you mean?” but before he could, the old lady put something black and foul-smelling in his mouth. This time, he really did throw up.

            “Don’t do that! Now I have to shove it back down there again,” said the old lady in dismay, waving the bottle she’d been fidgeting with. As soon as Ryan stopped barfing, the hag took hold of his jaw and forced more of the evil liquid down his throat. “I’m Nanny Eliza by the way. But you can call me Eliza, dearie.”

Nanny Eliza winked at him and Ryan swallowed back more vomit. After the hag seemed satisfied that Ryan had swallowed all of the poison, she and Cedric walked through the energy doors that disappeared and reappeared with a flash of fire every time someone walked through them.

            Ryan turned to Éclair with relief. “What is it with that lady?”

            Éclair smiled sympathetically. “Don’t fret. She does that to all the new boys that she meets. It’s some kind of sick joke for her. But she’s harmless, and actually a lot of fun once you get to know her.”

Éclair went to Ryan’s wardrobe and started going through his clothes that he never remembered owning. “Come on, then. Put a shirt and some pants on and let’s get going.”

            To Ryan’s horror, he discovered that he wasn't wearing any pants under the covers. Panic welled up inside him as he realized that he sat naked in the presence of the prettiest girl he'd ever met. He instinctively drew the blankets around himself as his shyness took over.

            In an attempt to keep himself distracted so that he didn’t turn purple, Ryan blurted out rather stupidly, “Uh … where … uh … where are we going?”

            Éclair threw the clothes she just plucked from the wardrobe into Ryan’s face. “Where do you think, Dragon Boy? We’re going to get your equipment and start your training. Don’t you want to learn how to be a proper Elemental?”

Ryan still felt a little wobbly after his brush with Cedric, the mute finger assassin, but it didn't seem like the man had caused any permanent damage. Soon, all feelings of numbness vanished as Ryan's body recovered its balance nicely.

I think I’ve heard about something like that! What’s it called? Pressure points? Nerve attack? Gentle Fist? Or maybe ‘How to kill a man by making rude gestures at him with your fingers?’

Despite the immense area they had to cover to leave the Ministry, they soon trotted down the outlying streets of Tarrus in no time thanks to the taxi service of Felix, the bird man with a bad attitude. Felix gave Ryan one last angry screech before flying off in his limousine-like vehicle.

“You know, I get the faint impression that he doesn’t like me for some reason.”

            Éclair nodded. “Hmm … I know how he feels.”

Ryan followed Éclair through the bustling streets of Pandar’s Market Place. Even though Ryan had lived on Tarrus for five years, it had only been in the dumps of the Fernady Sector, where everything seemed to be dying. Here, things felt vibrant and alive, like everyone had something important to do.

And besides that, it smelled far better without toxic sludge being dumped everywhere. It felt like walking into a whole different world. A few days ago, the universe seemed like a dark place where anger and poverty ruled all, but that hardly seemed to be the case here. Maybe Ryan had been wrong … maybe the universe wasn't such a bad place after all. 

Ryan started to realize why everyone considered Tarrus the jewel of the universe. The sheer size and majesty of it all was astounding. The sun shined brightly, much more so than in Fernady, where it always seemed to be raining. Also, some of the buildings stood even taller than the Ministry of Fire, which was a much more rounded and wider structure than the towers.

There were anti-gravity lifts everywhere; devices made out of blue energy highways that spiraled and twisted through the air in unending mazes of wonder. When people stepped on the lifts, they floated along the green-glowing road to be carried away to their destinations. Literally thousands of people floated above Ryan’s head, giving the place an almost dreamlike quality.

All the buildings shimmered with a faint red energy, which Ryan suspected came from the Ministry of Fire itself. Everywhere Ryan turned, something new and spectacular dazzled him. Elementals told stories with fire that made shapes of men, Griffins, and other creatures as well. Aliens of every shape and size happily went about their business, not a care in the world.

            Massive rides from amusement parks roared in the background where humans and aliens alike laughed and screamed while going on the most absurd rides imaginable. One ride had the children get in these spherical vehicles and shoot out into a giant glass orb where they had non-lethal dog fights since the vehicles were made of rubber and encased in protective gravity shields; plus, they shot simple paintballs that glowed in different colors. Ryan felt very tempted to ask if they could stop by the ride, but he reasoned that Éclair had something important in mind.

Perhaps a good place for a future date, but only after I’ve given her enough time to fall in love with me.

Ryan and Éclair soon came to a particular part of town especially meant for Elementals from the Ministry of Fire. Elementals in red and golden armor crowded all over the place with their symbols of fire, lions, and dragons shining brightly.

All the Elementals possessed the same color schemes, but the shape and design of the armor was different for each set of armor. Éclair herself had depictions of lions and Dragons when she wore her armor, but the color scheme didn’t fit with the rest of the Fire Ministry.

The Fire Ministry shops sported some of the most fascinating objects Ryan had ever known. The weapons and tools were of a make and design that could only be Elemental in origin. Swords with small holes at the tips that looked like gun barrels. Strange fork-like staffs that had electric currents running through them. Outfits that seemed similar to Elemental armor, only glowing with a faint white light. Ryan only wished he had enough money to buy a few suits of armor and try them on. Heck, he just wished he had money … period.

Éclair finally stopped at one shop, a dingy little place that looked like a round hut made out of mud. When they stepped through the threshold, Ryan came face-to-face with the fat alien blacksmith holding a freshly made sword. A brown Ogre with tusks coming out of its mouth, beady yellow eyes, a forked tongue, and big meaty sausages for fingers. 

He wore nothing but a long, black leather apron, green khaki shorts, and flip-flops. His sides bulged out on either side, making for a very unflattering physique. He had spikey ears with strange, bone-like protrusions coming out of them. Contrasting this brutish exterior was his magnificent curly red hair that flowed down his back with obvious grace like he'd spent all his free time combing it.

Ryan thought it might be a bad idea for a blacksmith to let his hair grow out, especially considering the tufts of fire that burned at the ends of his hair … that is, until he remembered that Ogres were fireproof. Some even said that they bathed in lava. That probably made it a good thing that Ogres considered themselves friends of the Ministry of Fire. The fat, Ogre blacksmith with gorgeous red hair faced Éclair with a friendly smile, or he simply showed his delight at the thought of eating the both of them.

“Éclair, me bonnie lass! So good to see a wee lady like yerself gracing me home,” said the Ogre merrily with a slight bow.

Okay, maybe that means we’re off the menu.

            “Now what brings ye to me humble abode? Is it business or pleasure?”

His voice had a warmness Ryan hadn't expected. Deep, but not intimidating. Ryan had to remind himself to never judge a book by its cover. Although, as the Ogre wiped his brow with greasy hands, Ryan almost swore he heard the guy fart and then try to cover it up by talking.

Éclair smiled sweetly, genuinely pleased to see him. “A little of both, Thisimius. We got a new recruit. He needs a Psionic Weapon, and I was hoping you could deduce his specialty. That is your area of expertise, after all.”

The big Ogre took a very big, very intimidating step towards them. Ryan suddenly had a flashback of Grafael looming over him with the intent to KO. “And does our young master have a name?”

Ryan felt his throat going dry under the scrutiny of a giant, tusked monster. “U-Uruks. Ryan Uruks.” Ryan hoped he didn’t sound as scared as he felt.

Thisimius gave Ryan a friendly shove in his middle that almost knocked him down. “Then welcome. A friend of Éclair is a friend of mine. Now let’s see about getting ya some weapons, lad.”

Thisimius then handed Ryan an orange glowing metal crossbow that had three fiery arrows coming out of it. The Ogre flipped a switch and three targets in the shapes of horned monsters appeared on the other side of the shop.

“Now, this is not a normal crossbow.”

Oh really! I couldn’t tell, thought Ryan sarcastically, only not willing to voice his sarcasm out of fear of being eaten.

            “This be known as the Triple Cross. It’s a Psionic Bow, which means it responds to yer psions. The more ya feed into it, the more powerful the bolts become. If ye put too much in, it'll explode on ya. If you don’t put enough, the arrows won’t fire. Also, there's another aspect that ye must be aware of.

“Although the basic technique of psionic control applies to all Elemental weapons, there's a certain amount of familiarity involved. In other words, ya must use weapons that are best suited to yer abilities, lad. We're gonna find out if the Triple Cross is one of those weapons. I usually have a good eye for these sorts of things.”

Ryan felt a little overwhelmed by the lecture. “That’s great and all, but one question. What are these ‘psions’ that you two are always going on about?”

Thisimius turned to Éclair in confusion. “No one taught him the basics of psionic control?”

Éclair frowned. “His career into Elemency is far from what you’d call typical. Technically, he’s still a Grunt.”

Thisimius fiddled with his tusk reflectively. “Then I dinnae ken why ya want him suited up for a Psionic Weapon already, lass. He hasn’t even been given the basic training on his natural element.”

“Circumstances being as they are, we really don’t have time to wait that long. He’s been named a full-fledged member of Squad 99, which means he needs a weapon, or he’ll be defenseless.”

Ryan's eyes darted between Éclair and Thisimius. “He looks worried. You look worried. Should I be worried? I’m getting worried!”

“You don’t have to worry,” reassured Éclair. “From what I saw yesterday, you got the basics pretty much down already.”

Ryan almost laughed. “That wasn’t Elemency! That was fighting for my life and getting the crap beaten out of me!”

“Nevertheless, there are many different forms of Elemency, Ryan. I already told you, it’s not all about freezing things and setting people on fire. Now listen very carefully.” Éclair took a step towards Ryan and he became fully aware of her proximity as she held the crossbow up to his chest.

“Psionic control isn’t that hard. Take a close look at this crossbow. You might have noticed that there are no triggers on it. That’s because it is controlled by your psions, the energy within your own body, rather than technology. It will fire only when you have given it the proper signal to do so with your psions. This way, there can be no accidental shots fired. You have to intentionally summon its power to use it as a weapon. The same principle applies to close combat weapons as well, but in a slightly different manner. Now take hold of the crossbow here.”

Éclair gestured to Ryan the area where the trigger would normally be. As he took hold, Éclair came to his side and spoke very closely into his ear. “Now, when I give the signal, I want you to remember those flames that you used to defeat Shaver, only I want you to imagine them coming out of the crossbow. The weapon has been psionically spelled so that the arrows replenish themselves. Go on, have a go.”

Ryan eyed Éclair incredulously. “That’s it! Really? I just think of fire coming out of this crossbow which is already on fire.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, and it does take a bit of practice, but that's the basic gist of it. Just be sure that you visualize the flames coming out of you and flowing into the Triple Cross. Without a point of origin, your psions will not know where to take the energy and convert it to something of your liking.”

“Huh?

Éclair rubbed her forehead and groaned. “Just try it out. Trust me. It’ll make things a lot less complicated if you learn this lesson now.”

Ryan tried to do as Éclair instructed. He envisioned the flames that he used in the fight. He imagined them spreading from his hands and flowing into the bow, like an electric conduit almost. Nothing happened.

“This isn’t working,” Ryan said dejectedly.

Thisimius broke in. “Yer not visualizing hard enough, boyo. Ya need to recreate the same feelings and emotions ya had on the day that ye made the flames.”

“First of all, I can’t do that because it was very emotionally traumatizing and only a similar situation could reproduce those feelings. Second of all, why would I want to recreate that moment in my head? I’ve been traumatized. I might need therapy. I’m an emotional time bomb waiting to go off.”

“Oh, please. You’re such a drama queen,” said Éclair with a slight chuckle.

I’m wearing her down. She thinks I’m hilarious. “Drama Emperor, thank you. It’s much more masculine.”

“Enough,” spoke Thisimius in a voice that shook the room. “Just fire the damn crossbow so I ken if ye have an affinity for it or not!”

            Ryan nodded and took aim at the targets again. He tried to re-imagine the moment right up to the point when he sprouted the flames. He remembered his feelings clearly. Fear, anger, regret; but more than anything, a sense of desperation. That desperation forced him to explore deep within himself in search of answers. He had explored the deep recesses of his mind and body and discovered a source of power that became fire.

            Suddenly, Ryan felt as he did before, when the flames started burning within his body in search of a way out. The pain didn't feel as bad as it had before, but it still nearly drove Ryan to his knees. As his fingers sizzled with heat, Ryan visualized the flames traveling from his body into the bow. The bow began to vibrate and glow bright with a mystical orange light.

Ryan steadied his weapon and imagined the bow firing. It exploded instead. Thankfully, the explosion went outward away from Ryan and Éclair, but Thisimius didn’t fare so well as he took the brunt of the blast. Though immune to fire, Thisy still looked pretty annoyed. The walls were scorched, and many tools and weapons had been smashed to pieces.

            “I … I … I-” was all Ryan managed to say before Thisimius cut him off.

            “Well, you’ve got decent power and a pretty large reserve of psions for one so small. But yer technique and psionic control are nonexistent.” He then took what was left of the Triple Cross from Ryan’s hands. “As for yer affinity with the crossbow, I’d say we can rule one weapon out of your repertoire. I think you’ll need something sturdier which doesn’t require such precise psionic control. Perhaps a club … or a tank. I usually have a good eye for these kinds of things, but I must say, ye be a wee bit of a mystery, lad.”

            Ryan felt the need to make amends. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll find a way to pay for all this!”

            Thisimius laughed. “Don’t worry about it, laddie. There’s been more explosions in this shop from experimentation than I care to remember. Besides, now that yer an Elemental, the Ministry will take care of all yer financial needs, at least until ya start getting paid for missions. Now why don’t ya wait outside for a wee bit; there's something that the lassie and I need to discuss.”

            The tone in Thisy's voice told Ryan not to argue, so he headed out the door without protest. As he waited outside, he tried to listen to what they said, but their voices were too muffled to make anything out.

            While standing by the doors, Ryan noticed an old man sitting on a nearby bench feeding some grain to pigeons. Ryan realized that one of the birds wasn't a pigeon.

“Tyrant!”

Ryan felt so relieved that he ran to the bird. The pigeons flew away, but Tyrant, the lovable hawk, made a familiar screech and flew to perch in Ryan's hair to give him a friendly peck on the forehead.

Just like old times again, thought Ryan happily as he petted his animal friend. 

The old man in a white, hooded cloak regarded Ryan with piercing green eyes. “Is this your bird, son?”

“Yes! I thought I lost him back in Fernady. I can’t imagine how he found his way here,” explained Ryan, too relieved to stop Tyrant from repeatedly pecking him on the forehead.

            The old man smiled warmly, and Ryan got the faint impression that they'd met somewhere before. “Pets have been known to follow their masters over great distances if they have been treated kindly.”

            Ryan decided it just to be déjà vu and paid it no mind. “My name is Ryan Uruks. Thank you for taking care of him for me. I don’t know how to repay you”

            “You could start by sitting down and regaling an old man with tales of youth and glory. It’s not every day that one meets an Elemental master.”

            Ryan enjoyed the compliment but tried not to show it. “Oh, I’m no master. Not yet anyway. I’m just a Grunt.”

            The old man chuckled in amusement, his green eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’ve found that no one is ‘just’ one thing, my boy”

            As Ryan started to sit down, he heard a bark and discovered an animal sitting next to the old man. Now Ryan had heard of dogs, but he'd never seen one up close. Since his early childhood, he'd always wanted a dog of his very own, but they had become a rarity in the expanding universe.

As for this dog, it was truly a gorgeous canine. Its eyes sparkled green, the same color as the old man’s, and its ears sat straight up, almost like a wolf. It had pure white fur, and it stood slightly larger than Ryan thought a dog should, at least four feet off the ground. Ryan felt a sense of awe and wonder overcome him. He wanted to pet it, and make funny baby noises, and scratch its belly, and take it for a walk, and play with it … Ryan lost his train of thought.

“Is that a dog?” inquired Ryan just to be sure.

            The old man laughed like he just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Yes, she is. There’s not many left, and old Green Eyes here is a rarity even among her own kind. Alas, beautiful things like her are in short supply these days.”

            The old man patted the white dog’s head while whispering something soothing in her ear that sounded like another language.

            Ryan twiddled his fingers nervously. “May I … may I pet her?”

            “If you have the courage, child,” the old man said jokingly.

            So slowly, very slowly, Ryan brought his hand down to pet the dog. She growled softly at him at first. Ryan froze until she stopped growling, and then, little by little, he brought his hand on her fur and petted her gently. Green Eyes panted contently, and licked Ryan’s hand once. Her fur felt so soft, it reminded Ryan of clouds, feathers, and stuffed animals. Ryan realized that he really liked dogs, and he began making dog noises that he'd seen people on the holodramas do.

“Who’s a good doggy? You are!”

            The dog cocked her head like she thought him mad, either that or she contemplated whether to bite his face off. Even Tyrant seemed to like her, which was strange because he never liked anyone. The hawk perched on top of Green Eyes’ head, but the dog didn't seem to mind.

            The old man in the worn and tattered white garb laughed. Ryan wondered if that’s how Santa Claus laughed. The laughter sounded so full of life and joy that Ryan felt happy just listening to it.

            “There are not many people left who can appreciate the simple joys of petting a creature of nature. I fear that we are starting to lose who we are … the things that make life worthwhile.”

            Ryan began to consider the old man a fountain of knowledge. “And what is it that people are losing?”

            The old man smiled sadly. “Compassion. Simple, childlike compassion. There are still those who believe in the lessons that one can learn from compassion and love. But alas, they are quickly becoming a dying breed. If someone cannot rise to lead them, then cold brutality and logic will rule over all, and there won’t be any goodness left in this realm to fight for. I’m afraid that people are too stubborn these days. So obsessed with being right that they divide more than they unite. It’s a sad thing to contemplate.”

            “But the Ministry of Fire stands for truth and justice,” disagreed Ryan. “As do the other Ministries, and the Tarrus Empire too. Surely things aren’t all that bad.”

            The old man spoke sympathetically, as if he regarded Ryan as an innocent. “I’m afraid that even the Ministry is not above corruption. A just institution it began as and remains to stand for. But behind the scenes, those with greed in their hearts and hate in their souls have already begun their work to undermine everything that is still innocent and pure in this world. Meanwhile, the people suffer; forced into subservience in the name of morality. It is increasingly difficult to determine right from wrong anymore. What is truth and what are lies? Such concepts don’t seem to matter these days. All that matters is whose side you’re on.”

            Ryan wasn't sure what the old man meant by that, but if someone threatened his new home in the Ministry of Fire, then he refused to stand for it. “Then we find out who's doing these things and we stop them! We kick them to the curb and show them that we aren’t going to sit by while our freedoms are trampled! I’ve spent too long under the thumb of those who do what they want just because society allows them to get away with it! I'll never let anyone bully me again! No one should be judged for what they believe, let alone what they look like!”

The old man nodded, pleased by Ryan’s answer. “If only it were that simple, boy. If only everyone’s hearts were as pure as yours, young Elemental; then there would be no need for such talk of doom and gloom. But I’m afraid that things are never what they seem to be. People can always find reasons to despise one another.

“Not even a person’s convictions or beliefs are free of judgement. Always remember to look inside yourself and see the truth for what it is, not what those of corrupt ideals would have you to believe. No matter what your ideology, everyone should be allowed to walk down their own path and discover the truth from themselves.”

“I agree,” said Ryan. “My father always taught me that I had to discover the truth for myself. But I still don’t think I know what that truth is.”

The old man chuckled slightly before saying, “I have a feeling that you’ll discover that truth for yourself very soon.”

The old man got up and said a strange word to Green Eyes, “Shrak'Vere.” The dog immediately sat up to walk at the old man’s side.

Tyrant flew off the dog to rest on Ryan’s shoulder.

The old man started shuffling away, but then turned to face Ryan again. “Oh, yes! I nearly forgot. She would have my head if I didn’t give this to you.”

The old man tossed Ryan something small and shiny. Ryan caught a pair of keys of a very old make and design.

“A woman named Hannah Lioness told me to give you those. Said that they go with the package that’s about to arrive for you. She also took the liberty of tracking your hawk and sending it my way, so I could bring him to you.” Tyrant chirped proudly on Ryan’s shoulders. “If you happen to run into her in the future, I’d suggest you demonstrate your gratitude most enthusiastically. She is a kind person, but she does tend to be a bit impatient and bad-tempered. It might go a long way to ease your relationship by thanking her for this favor.” The old man spoke as if from experience.

“You know Auntie Hannah?”

Instead of saying something like ‘duh,’ the old man said, “I know many people. And now I know you, Ryan Uruks. At least, I know you as you are now, but who is to say what you will become in the future.”

“Wait,” started Ryan as the old man turned to leave. “I didn’t get your name.”

The old man chuckled at Ryan with childlike glee. “That’s only because you never asked.” Ryan opened his mouth to ask, but the old man cut him off. “You can just call me Zand for now and forever more. I have a feeling we will meet again. Destiny demands nothing less.”

Éclair tapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Come on. I just got a call from Eramar. He wants you to meet him at the arena to begin your instruction.”

“Yeah … but this old guy here-” As Ryan turned back, he found both the old man and his dog had vanished.

Oh! The ol’ disappearing thingy again. Better keep an eye out for that old guy. I’m pretty sure that he might be Santa Claus.